


An Apology for the Remaining Warden

by Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold (manka)



Series: How to Win a Losing Hand: One-Shots from the Love Story of Varric Tethras and Maria Cadash (Canon Dragon Age Setting) [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adamant Fortress (Dragon Age), Angst, Blackwall (Dragon Age) Spoilers, F/M, Grey Wardens, Pining, Self-Hatred, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:53:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26122246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manka/pseuds/Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold
Summary: Gordon Blackwall thinks Varric Tethras doesn't deserve Maria Cadash. But, of course, neither does Thom Rainier.Prompt fill from Tumblr now on AO3!
Relationships: Blackwall/Female Cadash (Dragon Age), Blackwall/Female Inquisitor, Female Cadash/Varric Tethras, Female Inquisitor/Varric Tethras, Maria Cadash/Blackwall, Maria Cadash/Varric Tethras - Relationship
Series: How to Win a Losing Hand: One-Shots from the Love Story of Varric Tethras and Maria Cadash (Canon Dragon Age Setting) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1896694
Comments: 9
Kudos: 10





	An Apology for the Remaining Warden

Sometimes, Blackwall could not help but to watch her. He wasn’t the only one, in fact he was far from the only one. They all circled her like she was the sun itself. Various lingering glances, but appreciative and awed, were always cast her way.

She should have been sleeping. Maker knew the woman got little enough opportunity for it. Instead, he followed the hollow, repetitive sounds. A gentle twang of a bowstring in the night, the echoing thud of an arrow in a target. And when he made his way to the gates of Griffon Wing Keep he saw her, red hair unbound, sputtering anchor casting her in green light as she drew another arrow from her quiver and aimed.

“How long has she been at it?” Blackwall asked one of the soldiers. The lad tipped his head thoughtfully.

“Bout two hours, Serah. Give or take. Heard she got in a spat with the dwarf.”

The last thing Cadash needed was her soldiers gossiping about her personal life. He glared at the boy until he wilted within his chainmail. “Glad you’re finding time for gossiping like a village girl.” He remarked.

The soldier sputtered but Blackwall ignored him, approaching the small figure and her target. She loosed another arrow just as he cleared his throat. “My lady.”

She huffed in amusement, the same way she did whenever he called her that. Everyone else that dared my lady her got either a solid earful or a snide remark, depending on her temper and the day. Blackwall tried not to let that brighten his heart.

“Blackwall.” She grabbed another arrow, but she didn’t string it. Instead she twirled it between her deft fingers as she worked up a smile for him. It didn’t quite reach those stunning gray eyes of hers. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“The Wardens are gone.”

The air went out of her immediately and she dropped her shoulders. The wardens were gone just like she ordered the second she slammed the rift behind her, one hand clutching the Champion, the other sparking as madly as it did now. A rash decision, he thought darkly, one born of her youth, her inexperience, her fiery temper.

“Right.” She tapped the arrow against her cheek thoughtfully. “And you’re mad.”

“It was a mistake, my lady.”

“Yeah.” She dropped her eyes to her bow and shrugged inelegantly. “Well. I can’t sodding do anything right today so it can just join the others.”

Her shoulders hunched in like a child preparing to be scolded. She’d never be like this in the daylight. When the sun rose, she’d be the Inquisitor they needed. One who didn’t doubt, who didn’t struggle, who didn’t wrestle with the pain in her hand or the consequences of her actions.

“I wasn’t sure if I was to leave as well.” Blackwall wasn’t a real warden, but she didn’t know that.

“Of course I didn’t want you to go.” Her eyes leapt back up, uncharacteristically vulnerable. Soft. She bit her lip and sighed, slinging the bow over her shoulder and dropping the arrow back into the quiver. She approached him gingerly, a frown tugging her lips down. “Stay.”

He’d do anything she wanted if she asked in that tone of voice, half plea, half command. He felt his shoulders relax and he nearly threw himself at her feet like some fairy tale knight.

Varric Tethras did not deserve her. But Thom Rainier deserved her even less. “As you wish, my lady.”

Her lips twitched up for a split second and she stood on tiptoes, reaching up to drag him down. For a wild moment he thought she would crash their lips together and he’d…

Fool he was, he’d kiss her back. Kiss her so thoroughly that all the weight left her shoulders.

Instead her lips brushed his cheek chastely. “I’m sorry, Gordon.” She whispered gently.

The lie in her mouth almost unmanned him, but stiffened his resolve. She pulled away and he sat in the desert night, watching the green glow of her hand vanish up the fortress steps.

**Author's Note:**

> Are you also obsessed with Varric Tethras's chest hair? Got a thing for dwarf lesbians? Always thinking about dwarves in general? If the answer is yes, come join the Varric Tethras fan club at: [cartadwarfwithaheartofgold.tumblr.com](https://cartadwarfwithaheartofgold.tumblr.com/). I take requests!


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